Sun
by TheTruthAboutThe WallFlower
Summary: When everybody else reunites with those taken from them by Thanos, Thor is still there, smiling.
1. Chapter 1

The rush of adrenaline still spiked through him, his lightning fingertips still sharp with energy, still humming constantly under his skin.

Thor released a breath carefully. Controlled. His muscles ached that of war, and his eye burned, a reminder. All was silent for that of a second, before a choked cry evaporated into the air.

The King of Asgard stood from his crouch, re-gripping the mighty weapon his body still echoed in pain. His whole body seemed to burn at the slightest remembrance, a testimony to the war he and his comrades had just become victorious in. Thor looked to the pained cry that had clenched a part of his heart, turning to see the shocked faces of his fellow warriors.

It didn't take long before more gurgled sounds of grief and awe, disbelief and incredulity, started to reverberate through the valley of the battlefield. Thor analysed the scene in mild confusion, unsure what could cause such a simultaneous instance of emotion in such an uncoordinated moment, before his sharp ears caught the rustle of cloth.

He turned with a quickness that belied the exhaustion in his limbs, arms bulging in preparation, before his comrades flew past him. Past him, and into the random sea of people, civilians, warriors and strangers alike that had randomly appeared where once no one had been standing. Thor kept his face stoic, watching as the Captain clasped the shoulders of the metal armed man in fervour, tears shedding down his face.

It didn't take long before the nature of the encounters caused his face to soften, the reunions quieting a piece of Thor deep inside. The sight of his friends, the so few that he had left, even as strange as they were, caused Thor a relief settling in the ache of his gut, even as his heart throbbed.

It took him but a moment to recognise he was but one of the few not rejoicing, and a shake of his head prepared the grin he was getting ready to bestow on the comrades who truly deserved such happiness. It would harm him to not be the one cheering merrily, clasping arms and shoulders of those he had assisted to receive such fruits of labour.

The spoils of war meant reunited families, friends knitting themselves together and feasts that would shake the ages.

Thor's smile wavered. Well. Perhaps not for him.

 _The sun will shine on us again, Brother._

Thor strode forward, his cape fluttering brightly behind him as he met with all those that he had left. The wind shook the long grass, and it lent with a whoosh, his cape snapping in the gale. He inhaled deeply, letting out a cheery battle cry boasting of success and merriment. An answering cry rose up, up, up, high into the air where the sun glinted queerly against the clouds.

At least, Thor swallowed, grin stretching wearily, he would never be alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor stalked merrily forward, his jolly nature clear to the comrades no longer watching. His footsteps thudded strangely loud in the hollow space leading to his temporary quarters, almost as if the vibrations kept his teeth pearly, kept his eye wrinkles curved, kept his laugh boisterous. A hand confidently draped over the lock panel, and his door swished open.

The god was meticulous in his postering, thoughts of victory potent, bolstering his cheer, even as his muscles ached after only one nights passage from battle. Soon, he would have to wear this grin at all times, for his people. For his people's futures.

But for now, he did not. So Thor's infectious grin slipped slowly, almost disbelievingly, into the stoicism assumed of a king. He gently settled himself over his bed, and it wasn't long before his meaty hands, scarred and rough, with star dust chafe a mere echo of the past in light of his more recent injuries, came up to cradle his face. His worn, warriors face.

It didn't take long for him to start shaking.

Tearless sobs wracked his frame, his mouth mawing open in wails of confusion and his quiet moment of grief. There was much he grieved over. An image of golden light rays, hair the colour of spun gold, that of which he thought himself too spoiled to claim as his inheritance, flickered in his minds eye. The majestic, flowing robes that didn't even begin to speak of its wearers elegance shimmered.

And it was in this moment, where Thor felt terror and indecision, the throes of so many tragedies hitting so close so quickly, with so little time to mourn, that Thor thought to visit an older pain. "Mother," he cried. "It is your hand that I wish could stay me."

His back hunched over, bringing his forehead to his knees as he so keenly remembered. He remembered her whisper soft touch, cool to his burning face, brushing at the wisps she had cultivated in her creation of him. He remembered her embrace of the things he loved, no matter how unorthodox or unallowed. He remembered her smile, soft as down and the magic that lit her eyes.

Another sob wracked his body, convulsing his form fiercely one last time before he slid his hand over his mouth, not allowing the tears threatening the corner of his one eye to release, stilling his body. His heart aches and aches, and the feeling of isolation creeps ever still as he recalls his family and how much his mother cradled them all.

"You are gone," he croaks miserably, "And now it is my memory alone that shall continue your love."

His fake eye burned suspiciously, and he wonders how sad she would be to see her golden boy so battered. After all, for all he is a god, he is not infallible. And for all he is Loki's brother, he is also Frigga's son.


End file.
